


Aloe

by Rubynye



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sunburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam got sunburned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aloe

"I got sunburned," Sam growls in disbelief, and Steve bites his lip against laughing and eases his reflexive grip on the fragile tube of aloe vera gel. He straddles Sam's hips as Sam lies spread out before him on their bed, naked and beautiful even while sunburnt and disgruntled. "I got _sunburned_ ," Sam repeats, shifting the intonation, as Steve gently smooths aloe across his seared back, following the curves of firm muscle. " _I_ got sunburned," with such sheer grumpiness the third time's the charm. Steve physically cannot hold out any longer, curling over Sam as he whoops, planting his palms on the mattress for support. The ceiling fan's breeze ruffles his shirt and he can taste scented tropical air each time he gasps in a laughing breath. 

Sam tosses his heels up, gently thunking Steve mid-back. "Laugh it up," he grumbles, and Steve can feel the vibrations through Sam's skin, tingling upwards into his own thighs. 

Their backs prickle, still healing, so Steve dares to point out, "It's not like I didn't burn too. My shoulders peeled twice!"

"Yeah, and you're healed up already." This time Sam's heel-kicks are pleasantly rough, leaving warm little bruises behind. "Feel like I got goddamn broiled." He squirms a little. "Did I tell you to stop?"

"No, sir!" Sitting back, Steve reaches for the tube and caresses aloe down to Sam's waist. The sunburn's border is obvious in the deep purplish undertone and angry heat of the burnt skin. Sam sighs deeply, stretching his arms over his head, and Steve watches the stretch ripple down his spine all the way to his gorgeous full ass, and deliberately doesn't think about anything but making him feel better.

Sam sighs again, and murmurs, "The messes I get into, running after you," and ice stabs Steve through the heart. His hands continue mechanically, and as he watches them slide across Sam's richly tinted skin he remembers Sam's bright smile the first time he opened his door to Steve, the first time he stopped Steve inside that door to give him keys and a kiss. They may never see that house again, or D.C or Brooklyn, Sam's mother and sisters, the entire life Sam gave up for exile with Steve. 

Sam blinks, eyelashes casting inky shadows on his dark cheek, and looks back over his shoulder. "Oh, come on, man," he drawls, with a little head-roll, "Come here." Steve turns and flops down onto his back beside Sam, who sets a hand on his chest, over his racing heart, and this time Steve bites his lip against useless words. They were still on the jet when Sam ordered him to stop with the apologies.

For a little while Steve watches the ceiling fan turn, feels Sam's hand warm on his chest, just keeps breathing in the scents of tropical flowers and herbal aloe, matching Sam's rhythmic breathing beside him. The breeze whispers in his ears, the evening rustles outside the windows, Steve has a bed and he has Sam and he tries his level best not to feel guilty about one and towards the other. Eventually, Sam says softly, "We don't need to go back over this." Steve glances over into the warm infinity of his eyes, at that beautiful little smile tucked into his cheek. "We're going forward, together. So don't you even start or I _will_ punch you in that pretty mouth. Even this sunburn won't stop me."

Like the first day they met and every day since, Sam thaws Steve's heart, and as he smiles he wraps his hand around Sam's wrist. "Can I try to kiss it better instead?"

Sam arches an eyebrow, but gently flicks Steve's nipple through his shirt. "Sure, if you can figure out how."

Steve smirks, to make Sam laugh, because he can, because out of everyone who's followed Captain America, Sam chose _him_. "I've got experience with sunburns," he says loftily as he slides off the bed and kneels behind Sam, like he's going to pray in gratitude for this wonderful man.

Instead he presses a kiss to the tender undercurve of Sam's juicy ass, and wins a "Whoo!" of surprise. "Oh man," Sam says, starting to push up on his elbow, but winces before he gets anywhere.

"Lie back down," Steve orders, slicking his fingers with cool aloe. "We're just getting started."

Sam's "Yes _sir_!" makes Steve laugh again, and he presses a buzzing kiss to Sam's sturdy thigh as he gets back to his joyful task.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a ficlet. A bonbon, a trifle, a square off the candy bar. I really want to increase the number of Sam/Steve stories in fandom, and I'm working on longer stories (including the prequel to this, that Conversation on the Jet) which are taking a lot longer to get right. So, until then, here's this little bit to hopefully amuse and evoke lovely mental images, with more to come.
> 
> ETA: I never managed the story on the Jet. But/and Sororising's version is better than what I would have come up with: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7845874


End file.
